you rarely see what is right in front of you
by Everlane
Summary: He vowed the same promise to his son and his wife. It seemed as though it were a firm decision, but somehow along the way, Ozai had forgotten his promises. A cursed family have dinner together again, and a tumultuous argument shakes the world Ozai thought he once knew.


**Title:** you rarely see what is right in front of you

**Rating:** T just in case the PG part wavers.

**Genre:** AU, Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Family

**Word count:** 4000+

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender

* * *

His daughter was always quiet. A trait she took from him, aside from her mother's rare beauty. The child would rest in his arms, either sleeping or at times casting a long gaze over anything but his face. This was her observing the world around her.

In her own little year old mind, she somewhat tried to understand this strange world. She inherited his desire to know all there was to know.

When she would suddenly realize he was watching her, she'd send him an unfearing gaze that held a quiet fondness. Rarely did she smile, but he knew he was her favorite.

She would play with the hair on his chest while her bangs from her hair would obscure her golden eyes. It was these moments when he was always reminded that having the royal physicians fight to save her life right when she was born, and having her alive in his arms healthy and well was a gift he didn't think he'd have.

He vowed then to care for her the way his father never did for him. She was a living symbol of his own self, and he promised her then while pressing his forehead against hers to grant her a life where she wouldn't be an outcast.

He vowed the same promise to his son and his wife. It seemed as though it were a firm decision, but somehow along the way, Ozai had forgotten his promises.

* * *

When he was a little boy, his father left him with two broken ribs and a scraped knee on the training grounds because he failed in perform a basic kata. Later in the evening, he apologized to his father for performing poorly and continued to train, as if his father beating him for his poor execution of the dragon snake at the age of ten never happened.

Not once did he cry. Ozai kept to himself, a defense mechanism he inhibited since the day he was born.

He was at most times quiet, and he was so quiet that noblemen within Capital City who served under his father thought Iroh was the only son of the Firelord until they would see Ozai's lanky and skinny frame hunched over a book in the library or training within the gardens. '

At first they would think that he was a guard, but then they'd reason that guards couldn't train in the gardens and for the most part, would never be seen reading advanced scrolls in the library. Guards wouldn't go to an elite academy and look exactly like the legendary Firelord Azulon.

So in meeting Ozai as a young man the first time, most would always tell his father that they never knew he had another son, to which the Firelord would reply that Ozai wasn't good in grasping attention.

He has thought of this times the most in his incarceration here.

His impending death was supposed to be a path he was reluctant in taking. But in this pathetic existence, Ozai had a deep need to end it all. There was no glory, only the silence and filthiness of this prison and a rare disease physicians couldn't comprehend.

Even that wretched peasant will all her waterbending didn't do much. But it all didn't matter to him now. He would die a footnote in history, and not the man he was destined to be. Perhaps he truly wasn't good enough as his father had told him before his dying breath.

He slowly ate his rice in front of the woman on the other side of his cell. He always knew who she was, but it was good pretending that he didn't know her. It didn't matter though, for Azula was always a smart young woman.

A woman unlike any other. She somewhat held a deep intellect he had no hand in nurturing. Most dubbed her Ilah, after his mother, during their glorious years because of her powerful demeanor. But things were different in this period.

They were living in a peaceful era, and fortunately, he long disowned her as his own. The sole political advisor to the current Firelord was unrecognizable to him.

This woman, who now was the embodiment of her mother save for the eyes that were certainly his, wasn't the person he wanted anything to do with.

She was silent during the first few months. She would come to him and just sit there, making sure he was fed and slept well. At times, she would sit around while he slept, quietly reading a book or eating a bowl of the prison's rice.

As a child, he entrusted to her a way to speak without speaking. A code they both understood whenever they were amongst a group of people. But ever since she began to visit, Azula showed no signs in speaking this language. This meant that her ties to him were severed.

The first time she spoke, he didn't know that she did. Her voice was so soft that it was barely audible. But he heard something and told her to repeat, to which she replied, "Eat your food."

Her voice had changed. It was curt, slow, and a hardened version of her mother's voice.

"Why do you continue to visit me?" he asked, his voice traveling over in a gentle echo beyond his cell. "You have no obligation to me anymore, yet you come here and pretend to feel sorry for what is happening to me."

She continued to eat. Nowadays she only spoke unless it was needed, and he guessed that she chose this opportunity to say something. His daughter sighed, stared at him and said, "I want you to come for dinner. Brother wants to see you again and he wants you to see mother."

"Mother?"

"Zuko found her years ago. I'm surprised that you're well aware of my life since I was released, yet you were oblivious that your wife came back to the palace and has been living there ever since."

He was taken the following morning on a palanquin to the Royal Palace. Capital City was still asleep, and the sun barely crept out of the horizon. For the entirety of their hours long travel, he kept his eyes on her.

She kept her own out of the palanquin, her posture rigid under her formal attire. She wore no armor this time, but knowing his daughter, she didn't need any.

She not only could hold herself in battle, but she was a reinstated Crown Fire Princess and wife of the Avatar. He also knew that she was five months along.

"Have you looked into your child's bending capabilities?" Her child, not the Avatar's.

"Children."

He tilted his head in question.

She said, "I'm having two boys."

"You have not answered me."

"Because there is no need to." she replied. "Their bending prowess means nothing to me. I just want them to be healthy boys. I'd rather have them as non-benders."

* * *

His reunion with his wife was at most, troublesome. The woman had become troublesome, but it was obvious that where his daughter had no allegiance to him, her mother had established a close bond with her. Ursa was ridden with age, but her beauty never wavered. Her hair grayed, and crow's feet braced the sides of her face by her golden orbs.

She was still as beautiful as the shy and meek village girl in Hira'a, but he knew that in a sense, she only held utter disappointment for him. It was evident in the way she regarded him stonily when he was guided by a healer out of the palanquin.

She hugged his drooped and crippled frame, but he noted that she didn't do it in the way she used to. Ursa would hug anyone as if they were her long lost friend, but he reckoned that her time away had changed her drastically.

She hugged him because their son came into the courtyard, sending a hopeful look in their direction. He didn't think it would hurt this much.

In the gardens, the sun was fully out. His son held his arm and told the healer that he could handle him from then on. He held on to his son, who surpassed him in height. Zuko regarded him fondly despite the fact that Ozai did not once acknowledge his presence.

The Firelady greeted him earlier. That girl he remembered playing with his daughter in the gardens. His granddaughter was playing in the gardens with a waterbending girl. His son had introduced them, and the girl, whose name was Ta Min, bowed to him with her friend following suit.

Before he could stop himself he said, "You're obviously a very bright girl. I hope you're taking her to a good school, Zuko."

Zuko laughed. "That's the plan."

"And what is your name?" he asked the waterbending girl, who seemed surprised he was speaking to her. He should spend his last days doing this.

"Kya."

He nodded. "A good name. I know your mother is very talented. I hope you follow in her footsteps."

She smiled and nodded vigorously, before she was pulled away by his granddaughter to play by a tree. The garden was somewhat filled. Along with the waterbending girl, there were noblemen and politicians dressed casually with their children playing near the fire lily bushes.

He was left seated by the turtle duck pond. His son had to get something for him. Azula was in the open corridors with Ursa. There was a peaceful look about her as she spoke to her mother. Her hand was always over the underside of her belly. He looked away.

When his son came over with a goblet of juice and a book he had long forgotten to finish reading right when he was incarcerated, he asked, "Where is her husband?"

"Aang? At a summit in Ba Sing Se." Zuko said. "He's on his way over here. The conference was last minute."

"The conflict between the refugees and the citizens?"

Zuko nodded, watching his sister speak with their mother. "Yes. It's all under control, but Aang just wants to make sure negotiations are set in stone. You can't trust people to keep their word all the time."

Ozai nodded. "A good perceptive."

"But you have to have faith that they will follow through."

He chose to ignore the latter. He had to, because watching his daughter in this state was somewhat irritating him now.

And the idea of the boy who took away his bending taking his daughter without his own permission was beginning to put him on edge. He didn't know what he would do when he saw that boy again.

* * *

By sunset, the guests had left.

Quietly, they bid their farewell. It was warm and heartfelt. It reminded Ozai that not once did his father have something like this. His father only held gathering to either group together traitors or weed out information. Sometimes he did it for his social upkeep. There was nothing heartfelt about it.

The guests made sure to bid him their bows before they left. The waterbending girl did the same as her mother stood nearby. He nodded and willed not to let his lips twitch as she waved him a good bye and ran over to her mother.

Left in the palace was him, his son, somewhat difficult wife, and wayward daughter. The Firelady and his granddaughter were there as well. They sat around the dinner table, silent as the servants served them food and drink.

For a moment, he thought he was his young scrawny self watching his parents and older brother. Eating to the music of the clinks and clanks of their utensils over the food. Nothing.

"Iroh could not attend?" he asked.

Zuko shook his head while he began to eat. "No. But he will come, and that's what I wanted to talk to you about later."

"Zuko wants you to stay here from now on." Ursa said.

He pretended he did not hear or feel the relief overwhelming his body. But he couldn't help himself, he almost never did when it came to this boy. "I have no interest. My time is almost up. There is nothing you can do to deem yourself worthy of calling yourself my family."

You were lucky to be born. This was the usual dynamic of this cursed family. Zuko would spend most of his time staying quiet while he and Azula spoke. He couldn't help but go back. Yet Zuko only smiled at him as if he just paid him a compliment. "You'll be on the upper level. Katara is staying here for the summer, and she would be checking on you as your royal physician."

"You mean preparing for my death?" he asked.

No one spoke after that. They continued eating their meal. Ta Min seemed to be the only one who noticed that something was wrong. She didn't eat her food. Ursa was the next to stop eating her food, staring directly at his nonchalant frame. Azula kept her eyes over her meal, but she was merely picking at her food. The tension was thickening, like a dark cloud seeping inside the dining hall and filling the area until none could breath anymore.

"Well Katara has a plan, but if you want to die so quickly you can go ahead." Zuko said, biting a piece of his Komodo dragon.

He looked at his daughter, ignoring the stern gaze of his wife who seemed so foreign to him now. Her grayed hair was pulled up in a bun, and she tapped the table with her manicured fingers, waiting for him to say something out of turn.

"I'm not interested."

"You have no say in the matter." Zuko replied.

"We're not giving up on you."

Again. Ozai ignored his son. He now abandoned his food, ignoring the glare of his wife. "How can you not be ashamed of yourself? Stooping yourself this low enough to end up here? A whore to the Avatar. The very one who took your father's bending away."

Azula took a sip from her goblet.

"How can you sit there knowing that you're more of a failure than I ima-"

"Oh come off it." Ursa interrupted, and soon, Azula's hand left her goblet to holding on her arm as she stood up from her seat. She snatched her hand away. "How dare you sit there and torment this girl any longer?"

"This has nothing to do with you."

Ursa slammed her hand over the table, startling the little girl. "Yes it does!"

He stopped talking, willing his weak and frail body still.

"Mother please sit down-" Zuko pleaded.

"Don't tell me to sit down!" she screamed at the man. "How can you expect me to just sit here quietly, knowing that this fool gave you that scar!"

"Quiet yourself down, woman." Ozai sneered.

Ta Min looked back and forth between her grandmother and grandfather. Her mother murmured something to her, and she hurriedly left her food and scurried out of the room. The Firelady followed suit, gliding over to Azula, who refused with a quick wave of her hand. The Firelady bent down over the yelling and touched Azula's arm._ Come with me._

Azula shook her head and mouthed, "Later."

"This boy should have left you for dead in that dungeon."

"Mother…."

"I didn't ask to be brought to this wretched place!"

"Well you should be grateful!"

"Mother…"

"Grateful? For what?!"

Mai knelt by Azula, trying to pull her attention away, to which the woman refused. The opponents were so enwrapped in their heated debate, that they did not notice the figure entering the dining hall.

The servants standing near the walls. The man paid no heed to the argument. He only walked over to Azula, playing a hand over her shoulder. When Azula did not turn, both he and Mai knew that she was too far in to back out.

Zuko had his hand clenched over the table, gritting his teeth because his sister was calling on to their mother, and she still had yet to hear her. The dark cloud in the room had thickened and it proved futile to take a deep breath. He just couldn't breath.

…

…

…

"If only you-"

He almost spoke.

But he couldn't even say something.

"Mother!"

Azula was the one who spoke, but she said this loudly as if she were in pain. Ursa had finally listened. When everyone turned to watch the woman, they were stunned to find her cheeks covered with hot tears.

Ozai watched as the woman meticulously wiped her tears, but had to wipe again because the tears kept falling. The man behind her bent down, and finally took her hands to guide her out of the room. His hand was pressed against her the small of her back. He always expected to watch this moment of weakness in disgust, but something was awakening inside him.

Ursa heaved a deep sigh and abruptly sat down.

A few moments later, Ozai realized that the man who stood behind his daughter was her husband.

"What I don't understand is…" Ursa said but faltered off. "...Ozai when this girl was born the physician told us she wasn't going to make it. We had to leave her with the healers for two months..."

Zuko blinked. "What?"

"When you were born, you were born so healthy, Zuko." Ursa said, patting her tired eyes with a handkerchief. She looked as though she was tired of crying.

"Azulon wanted this girl dead, Ozai…" Ursa heaved another deep breath, her eyes red. "...but you said no. You didn't give up on her when everyone did. You stayed by her….where is that man? How did you become such a failure to both of them?"

"I did what I had to you to teach them respect." he murmured.

Ursa laughed. "You never had respect for yourself. What made you think that you could teach it?

Your brother lost his title as Dragon of the West…" she sniffed. "But you still weren't satisfied. You still had this absurd sense of…" she sighed.

"You left them."

She laughed again. "And you don't deserve their undying love. You have the balls to tell your daughter that she is a failure, when you're the true failure yourself."

He kept silent.

"Even in death, I doubt you'll admit it." Ursa finished, sipping the rest of her wine. "If there is one thing I know about you, it's that you rarely see what's right in front of you. You've always behaved as if you had no eyesight."

They continued to eat.

"A blind person has more grace than you do."

* * *

The memory crept up quietly.

The frail baby inside his arms. Him crying over her form inside a bedroom. It was the first time he cried. The only time.

And the baby had been so cold. Bluish.

She was cold.

But her chest still moved.

And he still had kept a warm hand over her form, careful not to burn her. His hand was familiar aside from his wife's, so the baby always leaned against it.

He had forgotten the baby.

* * *

The remaining months sauntered past. Summer gently tumbled into fall, but the Fire Nation's heat glared on. It only grew windy. His favorite pastimes were sitting out in the gardens and deeply breathing in the wind. His body was weaker. He now walked with a cane.

The waterbending physician was doing well in deterring it though. She worked non stop, seeping water in and out of his body. But it was getting painful to move his hands and walk around the palace without the help of a servant.

The memory of the dying baby haunted him. But Ozai was Ozai.

His daughter was now heavy with child.

Children.

Since the incident, he hasn't spoke to her. But this wasn't because he was disappointed. No. There was something else holding him back from speaking to her. Could it be fear? No. Perhaps he just didn't know how to speak to his daughter. It dawned on him that when he spoke to her, it was for her to do something.

When he lectured her, it was for her to focus on something.

Speaking to his daughter was like speaking to a stranger. He just didn't know who she was.

He never did.

After all…

Azula had always been the quiet one.

His body had given up on him on a chilly morning. It took him twice as long to leave the bed. But once he stood, he went back down. For the entirety of the day, he laid on the bed, sensing his end coming. His son was by him throughout. Ursa was there, and his brother too.

Azula was not.

"...zula…"

"She's in the birthing room," Zuko replied softly.

He stared at the blurry vision of his son for a moment, noting his flushed cheeks under the dim candlelight. He didn't speak, but lifted a finger up in the air. His voice was hoarse. "Room?"

Zuko smiled. "She's having the boys. She's been there since this early morning."

He frowned, as if he didn't hear what his son said.

"Zuko, I'm losing him…" the waterbender whispered to his son who didn't seem to hear her.

"Zuko."

Through instinct, he reached up to stroke his son's hair, a habit he couldn't break out of when the boy was two. Zuko's eyes widened. He guessed he remembered too. He couldn't refused the incessant twitch on his lips, so he let himself smile.

But Zuko shook his head. "No…" he turned around.

"It can't end like this. Katara you have to-"

It wasn't as loud the first time, but its sharpness was loud enough to silence the bedroom. A child's cry, piercing through the palace. He listened the the cries, angry and incessant and so….loud and full of fire. And suddenly, the idea of not seeing the baby crying irritated him. He did not know his daughter. He was not even going to get to know her…

Flashes of her eyes opening the first time when she was an infant greeted him. The way she regarded him quietly, but reached for his hand…

The promise he was supposed to keep.

Zuko…

Upon everything this boy was still fighting to save him…

Ursa...

"What's this?"

"I'm getting something! Get me water! Hurry!"

He rose, gripping the edge of his bed tightly with trembling hands.

"Will you move it?!"

He took deep breaths, crying out in pain. For the entirety of the evening, he was able to hold himself up while the waterbender worked on him. Slowly, his strength was returning.

He felt as healthy as he had been. While he sat with a stunned expression, unmoving in his son's tight hug and wife's own, his thoughts were only on the baby's cries. Another accompanied the first one's one when he said, "The boys...I want…"

"You want to see your daughter." Ursa finished for him, holding his arms.

He nodded.

"Yes I do."

His son held him up as they gingerly approached the room his daughter had just given birth in. The man who called himself his son in law was stunned to watch him standing. Ozai only glared at him. "Move out of the way."

He stepped aside.

His daughter was asleep, dead to the world against plush pillows and warm blankets. The midwife was the first to greet him, her arms snuggling two small bundles.

Zuko helped him walk forward. He peered down over the two babies, his surge of strength making him pull away from his son. He held his arms out and the midwife placed the children in his arms.

"Is there a seat?" Zuko asked.

"Yes, my lord."

"Get one near my sister."

"Of course."

He was seated near his daughter. The children's eyes were shut, and they squirmed in his arms. He laid back in his seat comfortably until they yawned and drifted into sleep. He watched his daughter sleep peacefully, her bangs sticking on her forehead. He could tell it was a long birth.

Then as if she sensed his watching gaze, her eyes blinked open. She regarded him quietly, but in his memory of her as an infant looking up at him for the first time, he knew that she was still asleep even though her eyes were clear and alert.

She would blink again, and that's when she was fully awake. That he knew much about her.

"Father…"

He nodded and then casted her a small smile.

"You did well."

She blinked again, as if she needed to comprehend him. Then she laid back against the bed, watching the boys in his arms. They both marveled over the round faces of the boys, cheeks, their pouted lips, and full dark hair. "Thank you."

He nodded.

"Thank Agni these boys can firebend." he muttered.

She laughed.

"Really?" Aang murmured to Zuko, who shrugged apologetically.

Ozai lived a long life after that, closely bonded to the two boys who had somewhat healed him of his illness. Most times the only interaction Ozai had with the boys were pulling their ears or hauling them across dining halls during Zuko's galas.

The boys grew up to be troublesome pranksters and their grandfather was always there to put them on check. But if anyone knew the three closely, they knew that Ozai's love for them surpassed any borders.

* * *

**End Note**: Feel free to comment. I'd like to know what you thought. Ozai reminded me of someone so I wrote this...


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